


And One Thing Led To Another

by cKayE



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Body Horror, F/M, Gen, Horror, M/M, Other, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-05-16 10:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19316350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cKayE/pseuds/cKayE
Summary: Gerard Way has been a vampire for the past seven years. He believes he is a bane of his own existence, and although surrounded by friends and loved ones, he's not particularly fond of the idea of a continued existence. Haunted by a rebellious past, heartbreak and gore, is past going to catch up to him?





	1. Banter To A Falter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations and how it all began to lead from one thing to another

GERARD gazed at his brother adoringly.  Heck, he may be seventeen, but Mikey would always be Gerard’s baby brother.  Said baby brother was currently in a deep sleep, his mouth opened slightly as slow stifled snores escaped from time to time.  He looked cute… _almost_.

Gerard smiled.  He loved his brother, which was precisely why he needed to do this:

“Wake up fucker!” Gerard yelled as he launched himself onto his startled sibling.  He landed right on top of Mikey, earning a furious gasp.

“What the fuck Gerard?!” Mikey yelled.

“Good morning sunshine! Ya miss me?” Gerard asked, grinning broadly.  He couldn’t help but laugh at Mikey’s unruly brown hair as he positioned himself so that he held most of his weight propped on his elbow while still draping over the now pissed Mikey.

“I did… right up until the moment you winded me, you ass,” Mikey groaned, pulling his encased arms from under his older brother and crossing them over his chest.

“Aw c’mon Mikes, don’t be that way.  I only wanted to say hi,”  Gerard pouted, earning an exasperated eye roll from the younger Way.

“Is that so?”  Mikey rubbed his eyes and yawned, still less than pleased with having to wake up earlier than his alarm.  Thinking of his alarm, he couldn't help but wonder how much earlier his younger brother had decided to wake him up.  Glancing over at the digital numbers, Mickey groaned.

"You decided to wake me up half an hour earlier than my alarm, to say hi?" He exclaimed. 

“Yeah.  Hi!”  Gerard answered, flopping all his weight onto Mikey earning yet another groan.

“Gerard, fuck off.  You’re making me cold."

“Hey, you know I can’t help it.”  It was Gerard’s turn to cross his arms.

Mikey instantly regretted the complaint.  It had been seven years since his older brother had been attacked and turned.  You’d think he’d be used to the cold skin that came with the transformation, but alas, it was not something one could get used to.  Especially when exposed to it after being wrapped in his cosy confines of blankets.

“Sorry, Gee.” He offered a small, apologetic smile to the older of the two.

“No, it’s all good.  I’d be pissed too,”  Gerard shrugged.

The two sat in silence for a while staring at the ceiling.  The Way brothers had always been close, ever since they were toddlers.  Practically inseparable.  Sharing their secret had made the bond even stronger which may come to a surprise to some, but the Way brothers didn’t see any other outcome.  They were too close.  Then again, not every sibling could say they got to keep such a large and dangerously precarious secret.  How many kids had a vampire as an older brother?

No, Gerard wasn’t a ‘Dracula’ type vampire, an ‘Interview With A Vampire’ creature, a ‘Vampire Diaries’ kind, nor was he one of those ‘Twilight’ vamps.  He was a real-life, nonliving creature of the night… well, a creature in general if you will.  He could walk in sunlight perfectly fine; thank you very much... he was just incredibly susceptible to sunburn.  His skin was incredibly pale, Mikey liked to call him Snow White because of the whole “skin as white as snow and hair as black as ebony”, and exceptionally flammable.  He’d found that out the hard way.  Smoking was now far too risky, unfortunately.  Yes, his hearing and eyesight were incredible, even his strength and speed were supernatural, heck he was even allowed to age!

Ageing is a very complicated scenario actually.  You see, vampires, _real_ vampires, can… enforce ageing.  No, they cannot die – they are still immortal to a sense after all – but if vampires really want to, they can implement ageing.  It’s incredibly useful when wanting to fit in or stay in one place for long periods.  All one must do is will it to happen.  It’s hard to explain, but it’s almost as if there is a switch that causes the time-lapse.  To age, one must ‘flick the switch on’, if that makes sense of course.  To revert to the age at which the vampire was turned, they ‘switch it off’.  To retain age, the ‘switch’ is ‘held in the middle’.  Please keep in mind that these are strange and simplistic analogies that do not give the art justice.

It had taken four years for Gerard to become aware of such an ability, one which he took advantage of as soon as possible.  So instead of looking seven years older than Mikey, he looked three.  However, despite the many marvellous pros, there was one large con that outweighed them all.  His lust for blood. 

Gerard craved the stuff.  Blood fuelled his being now, and he hated it.  Vampires, to stay reasonably healthy complexioned, comfortable and supernaturally advantaged to the utmost extent needed to feed every two to three days.  Slight problem, Gerard despised feeding.  _Hated_ it even.  He loathed that his own unnatural survival meant making human beings living blood bags.  He hadn’t chosen vampirism, vampirism had chosen him.

It had found him in an alleyway at his lowest of lows, close to blackout drunk and incredibly high on a multitude of drugs.  He was heartbroken and full of self-loathing merely looking for a way to forget for a night no matter the cost in the morning, even if it had meant death... or so he had thought.  Any amount of heartbreak was preferable to the self-loathing Gerard currently lived - no, existed with.  Or maybe endured?  Either way, there weren’t many positives, in his own belief, to becoming a vampire.

“Gee?  Gerard,” Mikey said, demanding his brother’s attention with a shove.  A shove that shouldn’t have even budged the older brother what with the supernatural strength and all, but it did, and it caused Mikey to frown.  Now that he thought about it, Gerard _was_ colder than usual.  Sure, being vampire had meant far lower temperatures, but Gerard was _icy_.

“Gerard,” Mikey said, a slight whine in his tone.

“Huh?” Gerard asked, unaware that he had been enraptured in his own thoughts yet again.

“I was asking how the cabin and the cycle went.  How Frank is?” Mikey answered, annoyance obvious in his voice.

“Oh… yeah, it was fine. Well, the usual anyway, nothing like, abnormal happened.  Frank, however, is passed out on the couch.  We had to use the cellar this time.  One of the neighbouring cabins was occupied, so he’s a little bruised up.  But he’ll heal.” Gerard said, frowning a little.  Mikey noticed his brother was rambling, only confirming his suspicions. 

To some, the conversation would be strange, to say the least, but not for the Way brothers. It was a part of their lives now. 

To add onto what is already greatly unbelievable, Gerard was not only the supernatural but dated it too.  Frank, a short, tattooed man with a slight case of hyperactivity, was a werewolf.  Not a ‘Vampire Diaries’ werewolf, a ‘Teen Wolf’ type of a ‘Harry Potter’ breed, but a living, breathing werewolf. 

Of course, lycanthropy is the typical trait of wolfmen.  They wouldn’t be a werewolf if they didn’t, now would they?  Of every lunar cycle – which lasts twenty-nine days – three nights are over shone with a full moon.  This pale cursed beauty of the night is the trigger - something the many pieces of entertainment in our culture have gotten correct.  For these three nights, a werewolf will undergo their transformation: An excruciating experience for the poor soul who endures body is being recreated.  Joints and bones are dislocated, muscles are transformed, and insides are relocated as a wolf form is taken.  At the crack of dawn, the transformation is reversed, and the pain is experienced once more.  For all werewolves, hormones are maxed and raging as their body prepares for the inevitable torment.  Mood swings are prominent while specific needs make themselves known, all causing a very roller-coaster-like-week for our werewolf, Frank.

The reason he is “passed out on the couch” is because over those three days, sleep was not something he came by easily.  The wolf form runs wild on those full-mooned nights.  Hunting where it wants, running where it pleases but always returning to the old cabin outside New Jersey located in a national park.  It was the closest thing the boys could get to seclusion.  Unfortunately, this park was open for hunting every once and a while making it an exceedingly exhausting and challenging time of year for Frank. 

You’d think that running around as a wolf through the forest would be more tiring for the man; however, it hated being caged – the wolf that is – and it fought for an escape from the confinement of the underground cellar of the cabin for hours without end throughout the night.  Throwing itself against the cold and unforgiving reinforced steel door and barricade, trying in vain to dig at the concrete flooring and fight against the rock walls.  So, after nights like the past few where Frank had to be locked up for the safety of a neighbouring family close to the cabin’s radius, Frank awoke to find himself bruised, swollen, bloodied and sometimes still broken.

One of the perks to Frank’s supernatural curse was his healing ability.  Unlike Gerard, who could only be harmed by fire, silver or another vampire, otherwise coming out of a physical complication unscathed, Frank is injured just as easily as anyone else.  He just heals much faster.  A broken arm is perfectly fine after a few hours, small to large cuts within minutes to half an hour and bruises in only seconds.  But this all depended on his condition.  After three gruelling nights of physical agony and little to no sleep (even during the day he only slept a couple hours before the emotions and need to move became too much to handle), healing became a little more time-consuming.  Bruises taking hours; cut's up to a day and breaks multiple.

“And, how are you?”  Mikey asked Gerard, concern evident on his pointed features.

“I’m fine Mikes.  It’s hard listening to it, but Frank is the concern here,” Gerard shrugged. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about Gee,” Mikey sighed.  Gerard knew what Mikey meant, he was just trying to evade it.  His brother was asking about his feeding schedule, but he could lie.

“I’m fine.  It hasn’t been long.”

“You can’t lie to me, Gerard.” Shit. Well, there goes that theory.  “When was the last time you fed?”  Mikey raised his eyebrows, not letting his brother getting out of it that easily.

“Not long,” Gerard replied quietly, looking anywhere but at Mikey.

“Bullshit Gee.  You’ve got dark rings around your eyes, your pale… well _paler_ and you're literally like ice.  Now, when did you last feed?”

 _'Damn, he’s good',_ Gerard thought before sighing.  
“It’s probably been a good week? Week ‘n’ a half? I’m not too sure…” Gerard rubbed the back of his neck as Mikey scolded him.  Not verbally, just with a look.  He was good at it.

“Gerard, you need to eat. You remember the last time you went too long without bl-“

“Yeah, yeah! I get it,”  Gerard snapped, hands flailing, cutting Mikey off before he could finish the sentence.

“It’s just hard y’know?  Like, I shudder just thinking about it.”  A very similar shudder ran up his spine.

“Gee, you’ve done it a hundred times before. You’ll be fine. You know they forget,” reasoned Mikey.

“Ugh, I know.”

Vampires were able to make their victims forget about the wound left after feeding and the very experience.  It was like a venom that was injected through their fangs into the puncture wounds of the bite site, 'blissing-out' the victim before they finished.  The victim was left in a dazed state for a certain amount of time after the vampire has finished feeding, giving said attacker enough time to flee the scene.  This of course only occurs when the victim is left alive.

“It’s just hard to find someone, y'know? And don’t you dare give me the whole, _“It’s winter, Gerard. The marks are covered,"_ speech because that is only part of the difficulty," Gerard retorted, becoming defensive.

“I don’t sound like that,” Mikey muttered, “and I know. You’ve explained this to me before. But it’s still easier. Just go into a bar, bite an alone, drunk stranger and leave. It’s that easy.” 

Mikey _knew_ it wasn’t that easy, but he put on the low-difficulty charade for his brother. 

Gerard had always been the same.  When he was little, he’d hated it when his mum had killed even the smallest of lizards in the house, crying that they should be set free instead.  Now that he was the potential killer, it was tormenting.

A snort escaped Gerard's throat.  " _That easy_  my ass.”

“I’ve asked you before, and I’ll ask again; why don’t you just feed off me?”

“Because you’re my brother Mikey!  I’m not turning you into a food source.  We’ve been over this.”

“Gerard, please.  You look like shit, and your hands are beginning to shake. Just do it. It doesn’t have to be much, just enough to give you a clear mind for when you go and feed tonight,” Mikey pushed.  A small, smug feeling began to harbour in his mind.  He could see Gerard's resolve wavering.

“C’mon, just a little.  It can just be from my wrist.  It’s no biggie, and you know you’d do the same for me.”

Mikey knew he had won.  Gerard was biting his lip and wringing his hands.  It was his signs of defeat and self-beratement for letting his little brother out-reason him.

Gerard sighed heavily, “Fine, but as soon as you get weirded out, you tell me okay? And as soon as the venom starts kicking in _you_ stop me if _I_ don't.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mikey nodded, fighting back an exasperated eye-roll.

They’d done this once before.  Gerard, Mikey and their parents were on holiday at their great aunt’s and were rooming with a multitude of cousins.  Gerard was four years into his new life and attending the first family gathering in three years. 

He’d graduated, made do with the little knowledge he had of his new lifestyle and had just figured out how to start ageing again because despite being twenty-one, he still looked seventeen, barely pushing eighteen.  He'd always looked a little on the young side.

Mikey had just turned fifteen and knew about Gerard and his vampirism.  He’d thought it was the coolest thing in the world when overlooking the actual use of people.  Actually, no... maybe even then.  To say Mikey and Gerard had a different moral view on the world would be a bit of an understatement.

It was an extended stay.  Five weeks at their Aunt's private estate connected to a beach in a mansion type household.  The boy’s mother had begged Gerard to come along, and he, eventually, begrudgingly agreed.  What he hadn’t decided too, however, was only one visit into town.  Why was this such a big deal?  It meant Gerard would have to starve himself for far longer than usual, and once those first two weeks had been and gone, the signs really began to make an appearance. 

Gerard played it off as a cold, but Mikey knew that his older brother hadn’t fed.  He knew his brother would feed once a week – they had worked out time-frames together – and the end of the third week was considerably closer than the start. 

Mickey had found Gerard in the middle of the day laying on their bunk-bed, shivering despite the blistering forty degree heat.  His older brother looked as if he hadn’t slept in days - which wasn’t far off the mark – and strangely gaunt.  How the rest of the family didn’t notice was astounding, but then again, none of them really paid him much mind.  It had always been the same once he’d gotten a little older than twelve.  Gerard started delving into the world of art, darker imagery and more intense self-representation, the family started to treat him as an outcast and persisted to treat him that way to this day. 

That afternoon, Mikey had asked Gerard what the problem was, and in a heartbeat, Gerard admitted the problem.  He was hiding away from everyone, so he didn’t lose control.  He needed blood and didn’t know how to get it without a problem.  He hadn’t been allowed to take his car, his parents insisting he go with them – and he’d caved to that too.  One look at Gerard's crazed, tortured, self-loathing eyes was all it took for Mikey to offer that Gerard feed off him.  It hadn’t taken much convincing.

And here they were again, the brothers undergoing a strange sense of déjà vu.  Mikey offered his wrist to his brother, clenching his fist as he waited for the sharp stinging pain that he knew would occur. 

As Gerard held Mikey’s arm gingerly, slowly lowering his head towards the boy’s exposed wrist, Mikey started to hold his breath.  Not just because of the pain that would come, but because of the feeling of euphoria he felt after being fed on for a while.

"How are you gonna hide it at school?” Gerard asked suddenly, pulling back but still holding the boy’s arm in a light grip.

“I’ll just wear that Adidas wrist things you gave me for bass.  It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Gerard answered almost absentmindedly as he lowered his head once more.  Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth and exposed his fangs to the soft skin on the inside of Mikey’s wrist.  He sighed a shaky breath before biting down and piercing the surface, a small flow of blood meeting his tongue.

Mikey hissed slightly as he felt his skin being punctured and then sucked on.  Sure, it was weird, but he knew Gerard would do the same for him.  He watched as Gerard began to breathe a little harder in between swallowing the small mouthfuls which were steadily increasing along with the grip on Mikey’s arm.

Gerard was now enraptured with the taste that flooded his mouth and groaned in content.  His supernatural instincts took over causing him to sink his fangs deeper into Mikey’s wrist, moaning as the flow increased.

Mikey was now beginning to feel a slight wave of euphoria trickle into his mind.  He’d barely noticed his brothers' grip tightening further, possibly causing bruises.  He knew he needed to stop his brother.  Now.

“Okay, Gee. That’s enough,” Mikey said, shaking his head willing the fuzzy feeling in his brain to go away. 

Gerard didn’t stop though and his breathing deepened.

“Gee… C’mon, stop now,” Mikey warned, his voice becoming firmer, despite the haze beginning to wash over his mind.  Still no response.

“Gerard!” He yelled.

Gerard’s eyes snapped open, hazel eyes tinted red – a side effect while feeding.  With a sharp intake of breath, Gerard unlatched his mouth from his brother's arm and sprung off the bed, slamming into the wall across the room.

“Fuck,” Gerard whimpered shakily, a line of blood trailing down the side of his chin.

“Fuck! Shit, Mikey, I’m sorry,"  he apologised in between a shaky breath and wrangling of his hair.

“Gerard. Gerard, hey!  It’s okay.  It was only a little longer, I’m fine.  Seriously,”  Mikey said hastily, pressing a discarded shirt to his wrist.

“Better a little more from me than too much from someone else right?”

Gerard shook his head, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Dude it’s all good.  Now, go clean yourself up, I need a lift to school.”

“Yeah… yeah okay.  Be ready in fifteen?”

“You got it,” Mikey replied.  He was already walking to the bathroom, his clothes and wristbands in hand and a bandage in mind, oh and a coffee.

“Gerard, can you make me a coffee?!”

“Yeah. Yeah of course!” Gerard answered.  He was still a little out of it, especially after licking the blood off his chin.  He’d almost lost control, and yet Mikey was still able to reassure him.

He walked to the kitchen, bypassing the couch to see Frank snoring.

Gerard smiled. He had a gorgeous boyfriend and a brother who seemed to care about his well-being far too much.  He wondered how he could even deserve such people in his life?  


	2. One Rev-Head, One New Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find that Gerard has a bit of a rebellious side and Mikey and Pete meet the new kid in school.

“Just be conscious of it Mikes. If anyone sees it, they’ll freak!”  
  
“Jesus Christ Gerard, would you calm down? The wrist bands are thick as. No one is gonna see the bite, alright?” Mikey was beginning to get sick of his older brother’s anxiety over the subject, and was trying in vein get him to let it go. It didn't really help, especially not at the mention of the wristbands. Bands he had bought for his brother for playing the bass guitar, not to hide injuries he'd inflicted!  
  
Gerard would be holding Mikey’s shoulders to get his point across if he wasn’t driving, but that didn’t stop him from inspecting Mikey’s arm.  
  
“Fuck, are those bruises?” He exclaimed, his wide eyes staring at Mikey’s forearm.  
  
Mikey looked down spied the newly formed bruises left by Gerard’s long fingers. “Yeah, probably,” the younger Way shrugged nonchalantly, “no one is going to care Gerard. Pete isn’t observant. You know that.”

Mikey looked over at his brother and did a double-take when he realised Gerard still wasn’t watching the road.

“Eye’s on the road, ass!”  
  
Gerard flicked his eyes back on the direction of travel, swerving around someone opening their car door.  
  
“Sorry. God, I'm so sorry,” Gerard mumbled in a small voice.  
  
"For the millionth time Gerard, it's  _fine_. It doesn't even hurt that much."  
  
Gerard grimaced and turned to apologise again, but Mikey knew exactly what his brother was going to say and shut him up with a warning look.  
  
Gerard looked back at the road, “Are you sure Pete won’t notice?” He asked quietly.  
  
Pete had been Mikey’s only friend since middle school. Mikey said he didn't care, everyone else in the grade was just a chapter in his life that would soon have no impact on him. Why should it bother him that his only buddy was Pete? That and, not that he would ever admit it, but he had trust issues. However, Gerard suspected that it did bother Mikey from time to time, but he was proud of his younger brother because he stuck with the friend that mattered.  
  
Pete was a different kid, always cracking a joke. Mikey was grateful to have him as a friend. Not only was the boy easy to talk to, but his ignorance, something that annoyed most people meant he didn’t suspect a thing or even get weirded out at home around Gerard and Frank. It wasn’t their fault, it was just as if being supernatural meant people seemed to be more on edge around them. That was Mikey’s theory anyway. Gerard suspected it was because he was technically a predator and put human’s fight or flight setting on high alert, even if it was subconscious.  
  
“No, of course Pete won't notice. You’ve met the guy,” Mikey chuckled.  
  
“Well, what’re your teachers going to think when they see those? They know you don't get in fights at school. They know you live with me...” Gerard trailed off, thinking about all the ways today could turn into a disaster. To say he was freaking out was an understatement.  
  
They’d arrived in the school car park and received more than a few stares. The worn white 1978 Pontiac Trans Am was sure to turn heads itself, but Gerard’s driving would do that in any car.  
  
He wasn’t a bad driver, on the contrary, he knew how to do many manoeuvres that would make even the fastest of rev-heads in town stare. Many thought it was because he was ignorant. Some said he didn't know what he was doing. Sure, Gerard hadn't  _initially_ , but he hadn't had to worry about getting hurt - one of the few perks of becoming a vampire. How did he learn to these manoeuvres? Well, let’s just say he got really good at “borrowing” working cars from the junkyard. Hey, the cars were sentenced to a crushing, no one would care if it was a crashing instead. Besides, being a vampire meant he could concentrate on multiple things at once perfectly.  
  
So yeah, him driving into the school car park and parking flawlessly in the student lot, only slightly slowing down off the street, turns heads. You’d expect someone to crash into him, but he always seemed to time it exceptionally. This time, however, he hadn’t slowed down at all and had come to a screeching stop in the very middle park spot.  
  
“Bloody hell Gerard!  _You_  can’t get hurt, but I fucking can!” Mikey yelled, grateful for the closed windows and speakers blasting Metallica.  
  
“Relax Mikes,” Gerard replied, smirking and rolling his eyes as he turned the music down a notch. Not much, but enough so Mikey could hear him without him having to yell. Yes, Gerard could focus on many things at once, but it also meant he could get easily distracted. Music being the biggest culprit, even if it was songs he'd heard hundreds of times before.  
  
“Seriously, you need to slow down.”  
  
“I’ll think of slowing down when you tell me what your gonna say about those bruises,” retorted Gerard crossing his arms and turning to face hot brother.  He was not going to let his younger brother change the subject that easy.  
  
“Ugh, fine. I’ll wear a hoodie most of the day. If anyone asks about the bruises, I’ll... I'll say I was babysitting the cousins and was used as a human jungle-gym.”  
  
“They  _do_  use you as a human jungle-gym.”  
  
“Perfect,” Mikey huffed, “then they’ll believe me.”

He grabbed his bag from his feet and checked he had everything, yanked his faded black hoodie over his head and hopped out of the rumbling car.  
  
Gerard shook his head at his brother and looked around the lot.  Most faces were still turned their way, and Gerard knew why.  His supernatural hearing enabled him to hear the gossip of the morning.  Himself.  Although, Gerard _was_  the talk of it whenever he arrived.  _Especially_ when he would get out of the car at the school. Girls really could be insufferable. That would change in a few days time at parent-teacher interviews when he walked into school hand-in-hand with Frank, he was sure.  
  
Gerard looked back to his brother and grinned. Mikey had an exasperated expression on his face as he looked in through the passenger window, knocking on it repeatedly.  Gerard lowered the passenger and driver's side.  
  
“Now would you slow down when you drive? We only just got this car.”  
  
It was true.  Frank had won the car in a bet with a werewolf acquaintance of his a while back and it had only arrived last week while the two were away.  The guy bet that Frank and Gerard wouldn't stay together for more than seven months.  If the couple won, they got the guys Trans Am and he didn't get to say a thing about their relationship ever again, otherwise... he was gonna end up with a broken nose.    
Frank wasn't the one who would throw the punch. In fact, it wasn't even apart of the bet. Gerard had just had enough of the asshole and decided that's what he would get.   
If the other werewolf won - which the two knew would never happen - Gerard had to give him his motorbike. A Triumph Bonneville his uncle had restored after finding it in Gerard's grandmother's garage. It wasn't old, it had just been in an accident. Gerard loved that bike and didn't want to see it go. The dick also got to make fun of their relationships for the rest of their lives. But considering Frank and Gerard were planning on being together for as long as they lived, the guy wasn't going to win. And of course, he hadn't.  
  
So now, Mikey didn't have to walk to school or ride on the back of a motorbike which scared the living shit out of him.  
  
"Please? This car is too nice to wreck," continued Mikey.  
  
“And what about me?” Gerard asked, feigning hurt.  
  
“I wish  _I_  could hurt you for driving this car like you do.”  
  
Gerard laughed and shook his head once more. “Love you too bro. Keep the arm hidden, be good, I’ll pick you this afternoon.”

He cranked the music back up causing more heads to turn thanks to the rolled-down windows.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. See ya’ asshole. Slow down and don't hurt the car!” Mikey yelled after Gerard.  
  
Most figured his yells were too late to hear, Gerard had already sped off. But Mikey knew his brother had heard him. Maybe it was because he knew of Gerard’s hearing capabilities, or perhaps it was the middle finger that was pointed out the driver’s side.  
  
Gerard was going to get him into trouble at school sooner or later. Mikey knew it.  
  
****  
Gerard had arrived home in no time. He knew that driving around the way he did gave most people a scare, but the older Way knew what he was doing. Well, now he did. Thank god because the vampire was getting really sick of escaping wreckage's. Besides, he always made sure to abide by every rule and law… he just liked to drive fast. Not that he went over the speed limit, he just took corners at practically the same speed and sped off as fast as possible when he had stopped.  
  
So yeah, maybe he was a little unsafe, but no one complained, and he suspected it was because he unsettled people. He could tell. He could hear it in their pulse, see it in their eyes, smell it on their skin.  
  
He made people nervous and knew they didn’t know why. _Gerard_ knew… well, liked to think he did.  Mikey always said it must be the effect of the supernatural presence.  Gerard disagreed.  He believed it was the fact that he was the predator.  The monster.

Frank insisted that mustn’t be it, they didn’t get anywhere near as unnerved around him and he was a monster too after all.  Gerard would always just nod but he never verbally agreed.  _Frank_ wasn’t the one feeding on people. Although sometimes unsettling people  _was_  a good thing: no complaints about his reckless driving.  
   Not yet anyway.  
  
As Gerard walked inside, he could hear Frank’s steady heartbeat. His boyfriend was in a deep sleep… and still on the couch. As the vampire turned the corner, he was met with a scene he could only call adorably ridiculous.  
  
Frank’s head was near the edge of the couch, his arm dangling off the side while his opposite leg was draped over the top of it. Open-mouthed, quiet snores escaped his throat followed by soft, incomprehensible mumbles.   As a raven-haired Gerard watched Frank, he could smell that the shorter man’s open wounds must have been healing.  The smell of werewolf blood was less potent.  
  
If Frank were human, Gerard would be holding his breath for as long as possible and trying to avoid the scene, but werewolf blood wasn’t the same.  Whether it was smell, taste or sustenance, it just wasn’t.  
  
Vampires must feed off of humans.  Animals don’t cut it.  The taste is horrible anyway, but it doesn’t hold anywhere near the appropriate amount of, let’s say nourishment, that is required.  It doesn’t matter how big the animal is or how much is ingested, it is simply burned too quickly.  Werewolf blood was much the same. It had a musky scent and still smelt of blood, but it's aroma didn't have the same, mouthwatering quality as human blood did.  It also had a strange animalistic aftertaste that would tick to the back of Gerard's throat and cling to his tongue.  
  
It got on Frank’s nerves that he couldn’t help his boyfriend in that way.  It’d be so convenient.  Vampire bites take only a day to heal for humans but for a werewolf, it takes only minutes thanks to the combined healing abilities and vampire venom.  The euphoria also seemed to be much more intense and longer-lasting for a werewolf.  How did the two know this? Well, let’s just say, when specific actions were undertaken, things got a little heated and Gerard bit Frank.  It was indeed an intense feeling for both parties as the… intensified pleasure also found its way to Gerard.  
  
You see, usually, when a vampire bites a victim, a small feeling of contentment runs through them. Once they taste blood a sort of frenzy begins.  As feeding continues, pleasurable tingles run through the vampire, spurring on the predatory urges; the desire to feed until the kill becoming increasingly overpowering.  Once finished, whether the victim is drained and dead or alive and “blissed out”, the vampire enters what Gerard liked to call a “blood daze”.  It’s as if everything is intensified but tainted with the hunt.  They hear everything and nothing, see more detail and a giant blur all at once not to mention the overwhelming and escalated smell and taste of blood that floods the senses.  The severity of the blood daze depends on how long a vampire fed.  
  
So this morning for example, as Gerard drank off of Mikey, he had entered the blood daze, and thanks to the long interval between his last feed, it was running stronger than if he hunted regularly.  His blood daze had made him stumble to the kitchen as he smelled Mikey’s still bleeding wound.  It would heal, sure, but Gerard’s self-loathing for almost being consumed by blood-lust would not.  
  
Gerard was pulled out of his thoughts when Frank shifted, causing his head to balance precariously on the edge of the couch.  The raven-haired vampire walked over and lifted Frank into his arms, cradling the sleeping man to his chest.  He smiled as his partner mumbled incoherently when he was picked up.  Gerard carried the exhausted werewolf to their bedroom, barely stirring Frank from unconsciousness thanks to the supernatural strength and fluidity of movements.  
  
As he laid Frank down on the bed, he thought about how he was going to feed tonight.  Hiding in the shadows of an alleyway as he waited for a random bypasser?  As a pretend lover in a bar, trailing kisses down the neck until he arrived at the unsuspecting victim’s jugular vein?  As a person affected by some form of injury or imitated intoxication asking for help and letting himself fall into a victim’s arms?  The options were endless really, but he never enjoyed any of them... completely.  There was that small part, the part always asked for more, that enjoyed the hunt.  
  
Hiding in an alley truly made him feel like a monster, and he always got reckless when his patience ran thin. He hadn’t used the bar trick since before dating Frank.  He still felt like he was cheating even though Frank said it was fine because he wasn't actually doing anything.  Besides, it always felt wrong, playing with some unsuspecting drunk’s emotions... That and Gerard could taste the alcohol in the blood making it much less enjoyable and him slightly tipsy, not that he would ever admit it.  Meanwhile, attacking some poor soul who was only trying to help seemed downright evil. But Gerard didn’t have a choice, and being a Thursday, said endless options were going to be limited.  He’d have to ask Frank.  
  
****  
Mikey shoved through the overcrowded hallways to get to his locker.  Sometimes the trek was easy, and he could get through the sea of students unnoticed. Other times he got the few shoves and less than kind words because he was "in their way".  It didn’t really bother him.  Why should he care of people didn’t like him?  It didn’t affect what was going to happen to him and his future, besides, he had one of the greatest friends anyone could have.  Sure, Pete was loud and a little ignorant and exceedingly naive at times, but he was loyal and never wanted to start shit... with anyone who wasn't looking for it anyway.  Which was more than Mikey could say for half the tosser's in the school.

Like clockwork, the very same person appeared as Mikey slammed his locker shut.  
  
“Sup dude!”  
  
“Shit! Jesus, Pete. Would you quit doing that?” Scolded Mikey, picking up the book and pen he had dropped.  
  
“Hey, sorry man. Didn’t realise you’d get such a fright,” laughed Pete. “You’re not usually so jumpy.”  
  
“Yeah well, Gerard’s driving got me on edge this morning. 'Guess I’m still recovering,” Mikey explained with a shrug as they walked down the hallway to their homeroom.  
  
“Oh yeah, I heard some girls talking about him screeching into the car park with “demonic music” playing,” Pete snickered, adding air-quotation marks with his fingers.  
  
“Yeah well, he drove in a little faster this time.”  
  
“Yeah, I heard that too. Also heard about the new wheels. I'm  _so_  checking that out tomorrow by the way. Oh yeah! Also sounds like some heats gonna come down on your bro sooner or later though. Same girls were saying their parent’s had complained. And that was about the motorbike. I can't imagine what that car's gonna bring down.”  
  
“Ugh, terrific,” groaned Mikey.  
  
The two boys entered their classroom and sat at their usual spot in the back-left corner. Mikey couldn't help but fiddle with the wristband and checking to see if the bandage was completely covered. He didn't need people thinking he was doing anything harmful to himself.  
  
“Hey, stress less. It’s Gerard that’s in shit, not you.”  
  
“Yeah, but the teacher’s end up hating on me because of it.”  
  
“Well sucks to be you, huh?”  
  
“Shut up,” Mikey laughed as he shoved Pete who shoved in return.  
  
Mikey was about to ask what exactly the girls had said since Pete tended to over-exaggerate at the best of times but was interrupted by him whispering, not so quietly, “Who’s the new weirdo?”  
  
Mikey looked in the direction Pete had nodded to see a hunched over boy wearing a light grey hoodie, plain jeans and ratty sneakers following their homeroom teacher.  
  
“I dunno, but he looks pretty shy,” replied Mikey. That wasn’t all, he looked beat up. Under the hood, Mikey could see the boy’s eye was black and also sported a busted lip.  
  
“Alright kids, calm down. We’ve got a new student today. His name is Tyler. Try to make him feel welcome would you?” Silence permeated the air. Miss Joneson, their homeroom teacher, sighed and rolled her eyes, “I  _mean_ , would some of you kindly move around to Mr Joseph here have a seat too?”  
  
The silence was filled with groans and protests throughout the room from all the student's bar Mikey and Pete. The two boys exchanged a knowing look. This kid was going to get shoved hard if they couldn’t help it. Sure, they weren't the most popular kids in school, but they weren’t at the bottom of the “fool chain” as Pete liked to put it.  
  
 _“It’s a mix between school and food, it works perfectly!”  
“Yeah, but you’re saying fool.”  
“Uh, duh. Schood sounds ridiculous and besides, everyone here who cares about status, are fools. But I invented it, and you're my associate, so we don’t count.”_  
  
Mikey rolled his eyes as his friend stood up abruptly, hand in the air.  
  
“Yes, Mr Wentz?” Miss Joneson asked over the ruckus in the classroom.  
  
“We’ll take him… ahem, I mean, he can sit here,” Pete corrected when the teacher raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Very well. Tyler, take a seat with the boys at the back.”  
  
Tyler glanced “at the boys at the back”, nodded and shuffled forwards until he was in front of Mikey and Pete.  
  
“Hi!” Pete exclaimed, “I’m Pete. Pete Wentz. We know you’re Tyler. Where are you from? I haven’t seen you around anywhere before. But it’s a big place, I guess I wouldn’t rec-”  
  
“Pete! Slow down. You’re scaring him,” Mikey interrupted a rambling Pete and gestured towards a wide-eyed Tyler.  
  
“Oh. Sorry,” said Pete, running a hand down through his fringe.  
  
“Excuse him. He doesn’t know when to shut up,” explained Mikey, receiving a wack on the back of the head. He ignored Pete and rubbed the back of his head while sticking his other out to Tyler. “I’m Mikey. Mikey Way.”  
  
Tyler smiled shyly and shook hands with the other boy.  
  
“Tyler Joseph. And yeah, I only just moved here,” he answered quietly, looking at Pete.  
  
The three boys got into a flow of meaningless chatter, mostly directed by Pete since Mikey was still trying to scope the new student out. As the day went by, Pete and Mikey began to realise Tyler was actually a pretty funny guy. He lived with his uncle now since his parents died in a car crash.  
  
“Shit man, I’m sorry,” exclaimed Pete.  
  
“No. It’s okay. You weren’t driving the other car. Really, it’s okay, but can we talk about something else. Please?”  
  
And the three began to talk more. Eventually, Mikey had asked Tyler if he wanted to come around this afternoon. He didn't feel like Tyler was going to be any harm.  
  
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be any trouble for your parents.”  
  
Mikey retrieved his backpack from his locker and turned to Tyler.  
  
“I actually live with my older brother and-”  
  
“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean…”  
  
“What? No! No, I  _could_  live with my parents, but I prefer living with my brother.”  
  
“Oh. Right,” replied Tyler, eyebrows furrowed as they walked down the hallway to leave the crowded halls for another day. “May I ask why?”  
  
“Uh... sure," Mikey said hesitantly, he figured Tyler may as well find out sooner than later, but he wanted to scope Tyler out a little more before saying Gerard was gay.  His trust issues didn't form from nothing.  He had more than one person shun him because of their homophobic views on his brother.

"Look, I'll put it bluntly.  My parents were dicks to my brother and kicked him out of the house.  I told them it was keep him or lose us both.  They weren’t happy, but I snuck out anyway.  Gerard – my brother – did try to tell me to stay with them but, ugh," Mikey shivered at the prospect. 

When Gerard had come out to their parent’s, they'd been furious. They went mad and said the didn’t want a “faggot” in the house.  Well, their Dad had while their mother did nothing but watch.  In the end, they let Mikey go.  Just as long as he went to family gatherings, holidays and visited every other weekend or so.  
  
“Oh. Okay… are you sure it’s okay?” Tyler asked, not wanting to pry on his new friend’s home life too much.  The last thing he wanted was Mikey to begin to snoop on his.  But that seemed more something Pete would do, Mikey was quieter, more reserved.  
  
“Please,” Mikey rolled his eyes, “Gerard and his partner have to deal with Pete every few nights. Trust me, you’ll be fine.”  
  
The two boys arrived at the front gates and waited, Mikey, explaining Gerard can pick him up.  
  
“Oh, and just a warning before you get in the car, my brother’s a bit of a rev-head. He doesn’t speed, but he doesn’t slow down much either.”  
  
Tyler simply nodded and lent against the rusted wire fence next to Mikey, waiting for this mysterious older brother, Gerard.  He wasn't sure to expect and wasn’t sure if this was even a good idea.  
  
Was this alleged speedster going to be a classic bad-boy who revved the car too loud to get girls attention?  Was he kind to his brother and a dick to others?  Tyler began to internally freak out, terrified he’d be a burden.  
  
Only minutes later, a white car sped around the corner and came to an almost screeching halt out front of the school.  He could hear some heavy rock music playing from inside the dark tinted windows.  
  
Mikey shook his head and wrenched the door open, causing the music to waft into the street and more heads to turn.  
  
“Gerard, what did I say this morning?” Mikey asked, irritation obvious in his raised voice.  
  
“And what did I say? I said I would think about it. And I thought about it… 'twas a no," Gerard replied with a cheeky grin.  
  
Tyler was surprised at the voice that came out of the car.  It was higher than what he had imagined, making it harder to picture the intimidating man he was expecting.  
  
“Ugh, whatever. I’m having a friend over, but he needs a lift to ours and probably back to his. That’s all good, right?"  
  
Gerard laughed, again something Tyler wasn’t expecting. It was such a unique… giggle?  
  
“Ya’ know you don’t need to ask of Pete can come over right?”  
  
“No. Another friend. His name’s Tyler.”  
  
“Oh! Cool. Yeah, of course, that’s fine. I’ll just get the chair down so he can, like, climb into the back.”  
  
Gerard wasn’t sure if it was okay at all.  A faint breeze was blowing into the car and the scent of dried blood along with it.  It seemed Mikey’s new friend might be a little bothersome for his senses at the moment.  However, he wasn’t about to shove Mikey’s new friend away.  Not since it was his second one in years.  
  
Gerard exited the rumbling car, clad in a long black overcoat, black ripped jeans and worn black and white converse.  This definitely was not the brother Tyler had been imagining. Gerard moved swiftly, almost gracefully although he was slightly hunched over. His hair was on the longer side and in a disarray of unorganised raven black strands, yet he made it work.  
  
“Hello,” Gerard greeted, nodding and raising a hand in greeting, almost shyly, to Tyler.  
  
“Hi,” Tyler croaked as he watched Gerard lift the seat back so he could get in the car.  Tyler couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something strangely unsettling about the older Way.  Maybe it was the way he walked.  His movements were unnaturally fluid and graceful, but there was something else.  Something he couldn't put his fingers on.  Tyler shook his head and crawled into the back of the vehicle and was locked in by the seat.  Mikey climbed into the front seat, buckled up and turned to face Tyler.  
  
“As I said, brace yourself. Gerard’s a speed-freak,” Mikey warned, looking back at Tyler after he had gotten in the front seat.  
  
“Oh c’mon Mikes, it's not that bad,” defended Gerard.  
  
“Yes. It is," deadpanned Mikey, staring directly into his brother's eyes.  
  
Gerard rolled his eyes and revved the car before speeding off.  Mikey was right.  Gerard was terrifying when he accelerated and even more so around corners.  He also weaved in-between traffic more than necessary when someone was even just slightly slower than himself.  
  
The longer Gerard drove, the more he could smell the dry blood on Tyler.  He didn’t know where it was and it wasn’t as potent as the fresh stuff, but it still put him on edge and made his mouth water.  He should have fed before going to the cabin.  Then it wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad!  What hadn't helped was that Mikey had protested when Gerard tried keeping the windows down.  
  
“Gerard, it’s too cold to do that. Can we please just keep the heaters on? Not all of us are immune to the cold.”  
  
“Mikey,” Gerard warned, flicking his eyes to Tyler’s reflection in the review mirror, trying to convey a pleading look.  
  
“Gerard,” Mikey mimicked.  
  
“Ugh, fine.” Gerard didn't really want to try to alert Mikey to him having any difficulties.  It made him feel weak, so he let it go.  
  
From then on, the heaters were on and the scent of blood circulated through the car.  It was going to be a long afternoon.


	3. Thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard battles with his prolonged break from feeding and Mikey begins to worry about Tyler

GERARD was right, the car ride was agonisingly painful.  It made him feel like a complete monster.  All he could think about was the alluring scent of Tyler's blood wafting through his car.  Even though it was dry, stale and musky, his mouth watered.  He couldn’t believe part of him had already calculated how he could use Tyler as a blood bank.  It wasn’t so much _him_ , but the predatory instincts that peeked unreasonably high when he was thirsty.

Why was it such a struggle for the young vampire?  Well, Gerard had skewed the numbers on Mikey.  In reality, he hadn’t fed in just over two weeks now and was surprised Mikey hadn’t been able to tell.  Either way, his younger brother was right, he needed to stop stalling and _feed_.

It was one of the few times Gerard actually drove over the speed limit.  Thankfully, Mikey was too busy discussing some sort of maths task with Tyler to notice they were travelling twenty kilometres over the limit. 

Gerard had never felt so relieved to arrive home and escape his brother before.  He pulled into the driveway at a speed even _he_ knew was a little reckless, but it didn’t matter.  What would be reckless would be staying in the car any longer with Tyler.  It smelled like one of his wounds had opened up, and the alluring smell of fresh blood began to invade the air inside the car.  The thought of how Tyler had even acquired such injuries didn’t even surface in his mind.

Gerard didn’t bother locking the car, he could do that later.  Instead, he wrenched himself out of the transam, closed the door with a little too much force and strode swiftly inside.  He knew Mikey would scold him for being rude later, but he didn’t care.  Not now.

Down the other end of the house, Frank woke with a start at the sound of the front door being slammed.  He felt groggy, disorientated and sore.  God, how he ached everywhere!  Last week’s transition had been long, gruelling and fucking painful.  His muscles left him feeling like he’d been run over by a truck, put back together in a compressor and then thrown into a tumble dryer. 

With another groan, Frank sat up and looked around, unsure of how he had even gotten into his and Gerard’s bed.  The last thing he remembered was flopping down onto the couch after Gerard said he was going to go scare Mikey.  Though, if he really thought about it, he could vaguely recall being lifted off the couch and put into bed.  Kind of.

He shook his head, rolled over and planted his face into the pillow he was sleeping on.  Gerard’s pillow it seemed.  His boyfriend had always said he had tendency to be a bed-hog... Frank still denied it.  Even as he tilted his head to find his pillow on the ground on his side of the bed.  With a shrug, Frank nuzzled his face closer into Gerard's pillow.  It smelt entirely of him: chewing tobacco, coconut shampoo, coffee and his own unique aroma.  Frank inhaled it greedily, relishing the scent invading his senses.  There was something so different about Gerard’s smell.  Probably had something to do with his being a vampire… fuck that.  It was because he was Gerard.  He always smelled good, even hen he smelled terrible.

As a small smirk pulled at the edges of Frank's mouth, he heard someone fumble around in the kitchen, _loudly_ , but decided to try and ignore it.  Knowing his luck, Pete was staying over and being his loud, energetic self.  Don’t get him wrong, Frank liked Pete - the two of them ganged up on the Way brothers from time to time - but he was not in the mood to listen to the rambunctious teenager’s non-stop chatter today.  Although come to think of it, Frank couldn’t actually hear Pete talking, which was quite unusual.  He shook his head and buried his face deeper into Gerard’s pillow, if that was even possible.  Sleep was ever so close now… _Bang!_

Frank yelped in surprise as the sound of the en’suite door slamming yanked him out of the sleep he apparently wasn’t allowed to have.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering why the hell someone was banging everything today?

Frank opened his mouth to scold the culprit but stopped short of any sound.  Only him and Gerard use this bathroom, so why was Gerard slamming doors?  Frank could hear people mumbling in the kitchen and could tell one of the voices was Mikey but didn’t recognise the other.  But there was another sound, and it was coming from the bathroom.

Frank jumped off the bed, ignoring his protesting muscles, and raced over to the bathroom door, only to find it had been locked.

“Gerard, are you alright? Why’s the door locked?” No answer. “Gee? C’mon, talk to me.”

Frank pressed his ear to the door and heard Gerard whimper.  Frank was beginning to feel a little frantic and couldn’t imagine why his boyfriend had locked himself in their bathroom.

“Gerard, please? You’re worrying me here,” pleaded Frank.  If the pleading didn’t work, he was going to go outside and break in through the small bathroom window.  So what if it was a good four feet above his head and they didn’t own any sort of ladder?  Frank had a habit of being able to do just about anything when determined.

“Please. What’s wrong?” Frank asked for the last time.  He paused and pressed his ear against the door once more, hoping for an answer.  He heard Gerard sniffle and sigh before the door clicked. 

Frank tested the handle to find the door now unlocked.  Gingerly, Frank opened the door and stuck his head inside the bathroom.  He saw Gerard sitting on the floor next to the entrance, his legs brought up to his chest, elbows resting on his knees with his face in his hands.  It broke Frank’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Gerard, shaking his head.

Frank crouched down in front of Gerard and placed a hand on his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Don’t apologise for having emotions. Everyone has them.”

Gerard exhaled, a breathy laugh escaping his lips, “Yeah, just not like me.”

Frank furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?” He asked as he crossed his legs and sat on the cold tiles, succumbing to the pain in his stiff legs.

“Everyone has emotions, but mine aren’t always mine, are they?” Gerard shook his head again, his face still buried in his hands, his black hair creating a dark curtain, hiding it from view.

“Gerard, did something happen?” Frank asked, concerned that Gerard’s state had something to do with his actions and unfortunate diet.

“No, nothing happened.  But something… something could have.” Gerard choked the words out as small sobs began to overtake him again.  He felt so guilty and so _thirsty_ at the same time, it was sickening.  Gerard thought that locking himself in the furthest room away from the kitchen would work, but he could still smell Tyler.  _Still_ smell the fresh blood, and it was driving him insane with thirst.  His senses were heightened to near the max.

Another side-effect that came with the hunting instincts Gerard possessed.  Once the mere scent of blood was detected, a vampire’s senses will become more sensitive, ensuring the hunt is practically effortless, and that one is easily alerted of any opposing or threatening parties.  Call it instinctual evolution if you will; Gerard called it torture.

“Oh... Well you’re okay now, right? There’s no one else here. It’s okay.”

“I wish,” whimpered Gerard.

Frank was confused.  He knew someone else was in the house but… oh.  He concentrated on the smells in the house.  Even though his senses were also supernaturally heightened, they nowhere near as keen as Gerard’s.  Especially after a full moon.  However, his sense of smell was still twice as strong as a normal human at the moment, and it helped smell the problem: the subtle, metallic aroma of blood.  Well, maybe subtle for Frank, but he guessed it was pulling Gerard apart.

“Gerard, baby, look at me.”

Gerard shook his head, but Frank wasn’t taking no for an answer.  He gently pried Gerard’s cold hands away from his face, and placed a hand under Gerard’s chin, lifting it to see his face.  The sight Frank was met with was still something that shocked him, even if he’d seen it tens of times before, and although Frank thought he hid it well, Gerard saw the flicker of shock on his boyfriend’s features.  He heard it in his pulse.

The shock was caused by Gerard’s eyes.  Although he looked almost entirely human, his eyes were chilling.  As cliché as Gerard thought it was, his eyes turned red when he hunted, drank or began to really become crazed with the instincts.  Now was one of those times.

His irises were a perfect reflection on the liquid he drank.  His pupils blown and the whites starting to look as though they were stained with black on the edges.  Frank had seen the full morph of Gerard’s eyes a handful of times, so he knew this was only half as bad, or chilling, as it could have been.

Gerard whipped his chin out Frank’s grasp, turning his head to the side.  He clenched his eyes closed and sighed before leaning his head on the wall behind him with a thud.

“I know. I’m a monst-”

Before Gerard could finish the sentence, Frank placed a finger over his lips.  Frank wasn’t having it.  Not again.  Gerard opened his still supernaturally affected eyes and stared at Frank, and although they still, only slightly, unsettled Frank, he saw the torment and sorrow that hid within them.

“We’ve been over this so many times before, you are _not_ , and _never_ will be, a monster. Okay?” Frank placed a hand on his boyfriend’s cheek, knowing it helped calm him.

Gerard sighed and nodded absentmindedly, pressing his face into Frank’s slightly warmer than average hand, embracing the comforting temperature.  As Gerard had sighed, Frank saw Gerard’s teeth were morphed somewhat too.  It was one thing Gerard was happy about.  He didn’t have to deal with the sharp, double fang-like incisors in his mouth.  They just came out for the hunt.

“You’re not a monster," Frank repeated, stroking Gerard’s icy cheek with his thumb.  Gerard didn't agree with Frank, he was just appeasing him, but his boyfriend didn’t need to know that.

The tattooed man leaned forward and kissed Gerard’s forehead, causing him to hum in response as Frank shuffled next to him and rested his head on his shoulder.  Gerard turned his head and rested his cheek on top of Franks' head and tried to focus on him alone.  His scent, his pulse, his warmth, his very presence.  It helped, then again, it always helped.

 

At the other end of the house, Mikey and Tyler had all but forgotten the maths homework they were meant to have done by tomorrow and were currently watching _Let The Right One In_ and critiquing every detail.

“Isn’t there an English version of this movie?” asked Tyler.  Watching a non-English speaking movie and having to read the subtitles made it difficult to actually invest any emotion into it.

“I mean, we’ve watched it, but we didn’t get it. Besides, it’s Gerard’s, and he liked the Swedish version better. The _original_ version,” Mikey answered.

“Liked?”

“Yeah. He used to love vampires. Absolutely obsessed. Not so much anymore.”

“Why’s tha-”

“Shhh,” interrupted Mikey, “this bit’s good.” He didn’t want to try and answer that.  Thankfully, the scene coming up was a perfect distraction.

Tyler shut his mouth and watched as the girl, Eli, jumped at a man under a bridge, ravaging his neck.  The camera shot changed to a man patting a cat, his apartment littered with varying breeds of felines, watching the scene below in horror.  Tyler saw how it was humorous, but he wasn’t sure the movie was for him.

When the movie was finished, it was well past six, but Mikey and Tyler continued to talk. Eventually, Mikey decided to bring up the inevitable.  
  
Pete had been pestering him about asking Tyler how he got the bruised eye and busted lip all day and texted him more than once this evening.  Mikey knew Pete meant well, but his curiosity would get the best of his friend more often than not, which meant Mikey had to censor what came out the guy's mouth regularly, but what could Mikey say?  He was a little curious too.

“Hey Ty, can I ask you a serious question?” Mikey saw Tyler’s jaw clench and a look of fear flash across the boy’s face.

“Um, yeah,” choked out Tyler, “Fire away.”

“Um, well, I was wondering how you got the black eye… and the busted lip?”

“It’s nothing,” shrugged Tyler.

“Because if it’s someone at school, Pete and I can help you out. We’re not popular, but we have connections.”

“No seriously it’s nothing. I stacked it when I was riding the other day.”

“Are you sure? Because we _can_ help.”

“It’s fine,” Tyler said, looking away, “Can you drop it? Please?” He asked, looking down at his watch.

“Yeah sure, sorry.” Mikey was going to anyway, but as soon as Tyler had asked him too, he couldn’t help but think something else was going on.

“Oh shoot! I’m late!” Tyler exclaimed, jumping off the couch and running to the kitchen bench where his things lay.

“What?” Asked Mikey, shocked at the other boy’s sudden outcry.

“I’m meant to be home by six if I didn’t tell my uncle where I’m going after school.”

Mikey looked out the window to see it was nearly dark and blowing a gale.  He glanced at the clock on the wall, it read 6:45pm.

“Oh… it’s okay, Gerard can give you a lift to yours.  I’ll just tell your uncle we got into our math stuff and worked ahead.”

“We barely did any,” retorted Tyler, shoving his books and pencil case into his bag.

“But we did in class, right? You can show him that if he wants to look.”

Tyler slung the bag over his shoulder and looked at Mikey, his eyes full of worry.  He took in Mikey’s words and tried to calm down, breathing in and out slowly a few times.

“And you’re fine with explaining what happened?” Asked Tyler after a few moments.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get Gerard.”

Tyler nodded as he sat down on one of the kitchen stools and watched Mikey leave the kitchen.

Mikey frowned as he headed to his brother’s room, mulling over everything that had just happened.  Tyler seemed on edge.  _Really_ on edge.

“Gerard?” Called Mikey, knocking on Frank and Gerard’s door.  He always knocked now, even if it was open.  He’d made that mistake once before, and it made for a very awkward week for the entire household.

Gerard opened the door halfway for Mikey, his hair in more of a mess but still fully clothed.

“You two weren’t…” Mikey asked, his eyes narrowing.

Gerard’s eyes widened comically, “No! No of course not. Not with someone else in the house,” he whisper-yelled.   

“You do it when I’m home,” mumbled Mikey as he crossed his arms, scowling.

“Hey c'mon! Look.. ugh wait, can we _not_ do this right now?” pleaded Gerard, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Frank’s asleep, so, just… what do you want?”

“Tyler needs to get home. Like, really badly.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, just let me grab my keys.”

Gerard waited for Mikey to turn the corner to the kitchen before whimpering and thudding his head against the door frame next to him.  Of course Tyler needed a lift, and _of course,_ he could smell him from the bedroom doorway!  Thank goodness he'd fed off of Mikey this morning.  He didn't think he'd be able to control himself if he hadn't.  As he took a deep breath, Gerard felt a pair of arms snake around his waist.

“You’ll be okay Gee. You’re strong enough,” soothed Frank, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Well I have to be,” Gerard whispered shakily.

“Hey, don’t worry.  I’ll put some clothes out for you so you can go feed okay?”

“What’s wrong with the ones I’m wearing now?” asked Gerard, confused.

“Baby, you and I both know the easiest way to feed will be to go to a club.”

“It’s Thursday,” argued Gerard.

“They’ll be some busy ones open. There always are.”

“Frankie, you know the only way I can… you know I have to flirt and… well, _you_ know.”

“Gee baby, it’s okay. I would rather you kiss a stranger’s neck to feed than to be in pain. It’s okay. I know it’s an act.” Frank knew giving his permission was the only push Gerard needed, his instincts would have already made the decision for him.

Gerard turned around, giving in, “Fine. I’ll make it up to you though. And before you say I don’t have to, it’ll make _me_ feel better.

“Oh, I’m counting on you to make it up for it," Frank said slyly as he looped his fingers through Gerard's belt loops.

"Just don’t put out the extra skinnies okay? They’re for your eyes only,” Gerard added, trying to lift the mood.

"I think the better phrase would be 'you only wear those pants when my eyes are _around_ ,” said Frank mischievously, yanking Gerard closer to him using his belt loops. “Just don’t feel guilty okay? It’s alright,” continued Frank, smiling softly.

“What did I do to deserve you?” whispered Gerard, cradling Frank’s face with both hands and kissing him gently.

Frank moved his hands to Gerard’s hips, “Show me tonight,” he said before deepening the kiss.

“Gerard, you left the keys out here!” yelled Mikey from the other end of the house, reminding the two Gerard had to be somewhere.

Frank let out a sound of annoyance causing Gerard to smile into the kiss before breaking contact.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” sighed Frank.

“Coming Mikes!” Yelled Gerard.  He pecked Frank on the cheek and ran down the hallway.

Frank smirked and headed back into the bedroom.  He knew exactly what clothes would help Gerard score on a Thursday night _and_ exactly where to send him.

When Gerard got the kitchen, the scent of dried blood wafted into his face even though the two younger boys were already at the front door waiting for him, both in coats.

Gerard remembered he was only wearing jeans, converse and a black, three-quarter sleeve shirt which was almost a little small for him.  By the looks of what Mikey and Tyler were wearing, it was cold. However, both boys were obviously in a rush, so he didn't bother with getting an extra useless layer of clothing just for looks.  Besides, the cold didn’t bother him.  Not anymore.

Mikey tossed the keys to Gerard, who snatched them out of the air a little faster than humanely reasonable and headed out the door, both boys following.  When they walked outside, they were met with a wind that whipped at their clothes and hair and nipped at their skin.  Tyler and Mikey jumped into the back of the car, shivering.  It was autumn for god’s sake, it shouldn't feel this cold!  
  
Tyler, however, was perplexed as to how the older Way casually hopped into the car as if the sun was beaming sun.  He didn’t look fazed by the cold at all.

Tyler gave Gerard his address after he asked and sat in the car, biting his lower lip trying to control his nerves. 

Gerard gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning even whiter.  He tried to concentrate on the road as much as he could.  Concentrate on _anything_ but the smell of Tyler.  Thankfully, the boy stayed still, ensuring the scent wasn’t being swept around the enclosed space.

Why did the first new friend Mikey bring home have to have been beaten up?  Usually, he’d be more sympathetic.  Asked if he wanted an ice-pack when they got to their house earlier.  _Usually_ , he wouldn’t be as thirsty as he was, but Gerard and Frank had to leave earlier to avoid road closures, so he hadn’t fed. 

As Gerard turned the final corner faster than any others, Tyler bit his lip even harder causing the already precariously healed closed split to open again.  Tyler winced, unaware of the small drop of blood beading on his mouth.

Gerard gasped as the red liquid’s aroma filled the car.  He wanted – no – _needed_ it.  Gerard clenched his jaw and held his breath, speeding up so he could get Tyler out of the car.  It was as if the scent enclosed his senses, his rationality and his humanity.  How cold something so small want to destroy his moral compass so desperately 

Mikey noticed Gerard was driving far too fast for him to read the numbers on the houses.  Well, Gerard could probably read them, but he certainly couldn’t.  Something must’ve been wrong.  The younger Way tried to see if he could see Gerard’s face in the review mirror, but it seemed Gerard had adjusted it.  However, he _could_ see that Gerard was gripping the steering wheel far tighter than his usual relaxed grip.  Something was definitely wrong. 

Mikey turned to see if Tyler had noticed anything only to widen his eyes in horror as he saw Tyler dab at his lip with his knuckle and it come back slightly smudged red.  It wasn’t much, but in Gerard’s state, it’d be torture.  Like putting a recovering drug addict in a room full of world-class substances.

Both Tyler and Mikey were wrenched forward and flung back into their seats as Gerard came to a sudden stop.  The raven-haired man didn’t even look back or utter a goodbye to Tyler.  Instead, he stared ahead, jaw clenched and hands tightly gripping the wheel, staying as still as a statue. 

Mikey proceeded to hastily push the passenger seat forward and exit the car, the wind still whipping around them.  He slammed the car door shut after Tyler clambered out and let the other boy walk past him.  Mikey watched Gerard lower his window and turn his head toward the opening.  Why hadn’t he noticed earlier?  Mikey had been ready to tell off Gerard for being rude, but he never even thought of what Tyler had on him.  All he had been thinking was that he found someone who he got along with… a new friend.  How could he have been so selfish?

Mikey shook his head and jogged to catch Tyler before he got to his front door.  It had been dark for a while now and only seven minutes past seven.   
He was ready to use his most charming persona; the one that gave him respect from teacher’s and parents alike.  Even his own to this day still fell for it. 

He didn’t mean to brag, but Mikey knew how to wrap an adult around his little finger.

The two boys stopped at Tyler’s front door.  The house was on the bigger side, two stories with a richly coloured garden.  All the curtains drawn, so Mikey wasn’t able to catch a glimpse inside.  However, if you looked at the small details, one could spy the hints steady hints of neglect.  Weeds pushed they're through cracks in the driveway and along the path leading to the door, like persistent intruders.  The paint work around the house was faded and obviously due for a touch-up, cracks visible along the bottom of the wall and flaking around the windows. 

“I don’t think your brother likes me very much,” mumbled Tyler, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his feet, pulling Mikey out of his spying.

“No, it’s not that,” sighed Mikey, looking inside the car to see Gerard leaning on his arms on the steering wheel, “He’s just stressed, and not feeling great.  He’s got somewhere to be tonight, so I guess he’s in a rush.”  Mikey looked to see a doubtful look on Tyler’s face.  “Trust me, he’s usually really great.  It’s just been a long day is all,” reassured Mikey.

Tyler nodded and looked at his front door.

“Well, I guess I should get going.  I’m guessing my uncle’s asleep.”

“How do you know? Are you sure you don’t want my help to cover for you?”

Tyler laughed at Mikey’s questions.  It reminded him of someone else, “Yes, it’s okay.  Thank you, _Pete_.”

Mikey looked down and laughed, “Yeah okay. Sorry. You’ve got my number so just text if you need any covering yeah?”

Tyler smiled and nodded. 

“Hey, um… thank you. For coming over. It’s been a long time since I’ve, uh, Pete and I have really had anyone else to hang out with,” said Mikey, stumbling over his words a bit.

Tyler realised Mike was nervous.  All day, he seemed so confident, and never once did he trip over his words, but here Mikey was fumbling with sentences while thanking Tyler for merely hanging out.  Not that he would judge, he was just as thankful.  So this time, Tyler gave a genuinely pleased, closed-mouth smile.  There was no shy demeanour to it.  He was happy. 

“It’s okay. I had fun."

“Oh good, because I was worried Gerard’s driving scared you off,” joked Mikey, his confidence back.

“No. It’s not that terrible.”

Mikey laughed in response.

“Okay, I gotta go. See you guys tomorrow?” Tyler asked, still not quite believing he'd made friends on his first day.

“Yeah, see ya’.”

Taking a deep breath, he opened the front door and giving Mikey a final smile goodbye and Gerard a quick glance, closed the door.

Mikey frowned again.  He had a feeling Tyler was hiding something, he just wasn’t sure what.  Suddenly remembering Gerard, he jogged back to the car to find Gerard was laying his head on the steering wheel, face turned towards his open window.  Mikey wrenched the car door open and jumped inside, feeling terribly guilty.

“Gerard I’m so sorry. I thought you were just… I’m sorry.”

Mikey continued to ramble, and Gerard tried to interrupt twice and still couldn’t shut his younger brother up.

“Mikey!” He tried again, putting a shaking hand on his brother’s shoulder, “It’s okay.” He kept his gaze low.  He knew what his eyes were doing, and it was something he’d tried to keep from Mikey.  Of course, the younger Way already knew, he saw it just this morning after all, but Gerard hated it.  In his peripheral vision, he saw Mikey snap his mouth shut and turn away from him.

“I feel so selfish,” whispered Mikey, so quietly, anyone else probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but Gerard did, and it broke his heart.  He whipped his head up to look at his brother was looking down at his hands, wringing them together.

“Mikey, I don’t ever want you to feel selfish when it comes to me,” scolded Gerard. 

Mikey looked up to see Gerard’s eyes still tainted red and pupils blown.

“I’m serious okay? Don’t ever feel like you can’t do things because of me. I’m not your problem, and my diet certainly isn’t. This,” Gerard waved his hands around his face, “is my fault. My concern. Not yours. Okay?”

Mikey nodded, offering a week smile.

“Okay, good. Now I’d offer an ice-cream trip, but I really need to… go out. So, buckle up,”

After a moment of silence, the side of Mikey's pulled up in a slight but defeated smirk.

“You’re not gonna stop driving like you do, huh." I was more of a statement than a question.

Gerard only grinned in response.

The two Ways didn’t get home any faster than when they got to Tyler’s, but Mikey still felt it was ridiculous.

Once they’d arrived home, Gerard gave Mikey the keys to lock the car since he was too humanly slow for Gerard to take.  He sped inside more swiftly than was safe when out in their _very_ visible driveway, but he didn’t care.  He needed to feed.

As he entered the bedroom, Gerard smiled seeing Frank sprawled out in the middle of the bed, laying on both his own and Gerard’s pillow.

Frank had put out an all-black outfit for Gerard to wear.  A black, button-up shirt, a dress-vest and black skinny jeans.  Not _those_ skinny jeans thank goodness.  Frank was right, not that Gerard would ever admit it out loud, he _did_ only wear those jeans when Frank's eyes were around.  They teased him without him really making an effort: just walk with a slight sashay.  Easy.  Aside from the outfit, it seemed Frank had also found a popular club open tonight that apparently, according to the scrawled note, were packed mostly every night.  _Good_ , Gerard thought, _won’t have to worry about drawing attention_.

As Gerard did his hair, he thought about how long it had been since he’d hunted in a club.  He hadn’t tried to flirt with anyone in a long time.  It made him incredibly nervous if he was being entirely honest. Usually, he’d go after a drunk on their way home.  He’d follow them until they were back and would attack after they had unlocked their door.  That way, he was able to feed, take them inside, lock the door and leave.  It gave him peace of mind knowing his victims were safe in their own house rather than in a daze on the street.

Gerard decided eye-liner was a go tonight.  He felt like he needed an edge.  He had dark rings under his eyes, looked far too pale to be considered even remotely healthy and was also beginning to look a little gaunt.  _Yeah… I need an edge._

After smudging the eyeliner around his eyes and grabbing his things for tonight's… _outing,_ he left, already dialling the taxi’s number.

***

The cab ride had been quick and comfortable despite the stench of fear running through the car.  Gerard guessed the club Frank had sent Gerard too had a reputation because the cabbie gave Gerard the most disgusted of looks when he gave the name and address.  It was fine.  Gerard merely returned the favour, giving the driver a stare that made his blood run cold.  Gerard didn’t care much that he had scared the guy.  He didn’t like that everyone seemed on edge around him, and he certainly didn’t like using his supernatural abilities to get what he wanted out of people, but he had quite the exception when it came to homophobes.

When Gerard left the cab, he made sure to really ruffle the driver’s feathers and give him a chilling smile. 

Gerard chuckled as he walked towards the club doors when he heard the taxi drive off too fast to be safe.  Gerard spied the line-up for the club he’d assumed was a gay club, but there were around the same amount of both men women.  Straight or otherwise.  Then it hit him.  Frank had spoken about a bar/club that was known as a “safe party space” for same-sex couples of all genders but not closed to straight couples either. Now Frank was sending him. 

Of course, he was.  Frank tended to hint precisely what he wanted by making Gerard go somewhere or do something that was only obvious when he was doing it. 

It was only 8:30pm on a Thursdy, but the line was already growing.  Gerard didn’t particularly want to wait - the prospect of feeding soon had him on edge.  As he entered the line, he checked his pockets to make sure he had his everything.

Phone?  Check.  Money?  Check.  ID?  Check.  A scrunched-up piece of paper?  Check.  Wait, what?

Gerard pulled the ball of paper from his pocket and opened it up to find a yet another scrawled note from Frank.

_Yes, this club is fucking ages away, but I also know the bouncer tonight._   
_Remember Bob? Big dude. Blonde. ~~That weird one?~~ He owes me one.  He’ll let you in quick. Just tell him who you are, I sent you etc._   
_Be safe. Don’t feel guilty. ~~Can’t stop thinking about what you’re goi~~ ~~You owe me som~~  Can’t wait for you to get home baby ;) Love you._   
_Frnkxo_   
_P.S. scope out the place would you? I heard it’s funnnn xx_

Gerard smiled.  How he loved his boyfriend.  Frank _did_ want to go so, of course, he would scope the place out.

Gerard left his spot in the queue, up past the line-up that most likely would have had him waiting for over an hour and spied the bouncer Frank described.  Tall, burly, blonde-haired.  Typical bouncer material.

As Gerard approached Bob, he figured he should start to look a little more confident than his usual ‘trying to stay unnoticed’.  If there was one thing he learnt, it was that willing out-going singles looked for the more confident ones. 

He relaxed his face and walked up to Bob.  If Frank were there, he would have dropped back to watch Gerard behind. He may or may not be partial to the way Gerard “sashayed”.

Gerard saw Bob was talking to another man in a suit from inside over what looked like paperwork.  He decided to wait.  He wanted to appear confident and alluring, not rude.

“Hey, get to the back of the line punk. It’s that way if you needed the help,” some jerk at the front interrupted, jerking his thumb back and glaring at Gerard.  The vampire merely rolled his eyes, smirked at the guy and shook his head, returning his attention to the still preoccupied bouncer.

“I said move it,” Jerk continued.

Gerard sighed.  He really was not in the mood for some idiot’s shenanigans and decided to ignore him this time.

“Are you listening to me, emo freak?”

Now that _really_ hit a nerve.  Gerard knew he was wearing all black, eyeliner and died black hair, but they were adults.  He hadn’t been called that since high school.  Maybe once or twice in college?

Gerard rolled his head side to side and exhaled slowly.  He turned towards the idiot and looked him up and down.  He wasn’t much taller than himself, but he was buff.  If Gerard were human, he’d back off and call out to the Bob guy.  However, Gerard wasn’t human and certainly wasn’t feeling patient anymore.

“Alright _jerk_ ,” Gerard said in a low, threatening voice, “first off, yes I heard you.  Just unlike you, I don’t see a point in any conflict.  Second, we’re adults, no need to use schoolyard insults. And third, please just shut up.”

The other man was clearly rattled but also knew he had a crowd and he wasn't about to appear weak in some dude obviously smaller than himself.  A few people in the line were watching the exchange with interest while Bob was having a now slightly heated conversation with the suited man.

“Are you threatening me?” The jerk responded, squaring up.  He looked confident on the outside, but Gerard could smell his unease on his skin.

The strange thing with Gerard was that around Frank and Mikey and a few of his friend’s he was very emotionally open, before and after being turned.  Before, Gerard was very reserved around people he didn’t know.  Polite.  Quiet.  He liked to avoid attention.  Vampirism had given him a new type of confidence, and although he still wanted to remain unnoticed, when he was challenged, gossiped about for long periods or thirsty, he liked to put on a bit of a show.  Not just because of the instincts, but because subconsciously he knew he could now.  He wasn’t so scared to be judged anymore.  Although, maybe that was because he was in close relationships with people who didn’t judge him.  Either way, a show was exactly what he was going to do now.

Gerard looked back at Bob, making sure the bouncer was still preoccupied.  Happy with the results, Gerard turned back to the man.  He walked close enough to be intimidating but made sure he wasn’t invading his personal space.  Not just yet anyway.  Like he said: confident, not rude.

“What’s your name?” asked Gerard, crossing his arms and leaning on one leg, cocking his hip out slightly.

“What’s it to you?” Jerk asked.

“Okay then.  Jerk it is,” Gerard shrugged.

“Now you wait a min-”

“Bup, bup,” Gerard interrupted and walked closer to the man, “You asked if I was threatening you?” Gerard pretended to fix Jerk’s collar and tie, glancing up at the man’s clearly ruffled demeanour only to look back down and pretend to concentrate on the task at hand.  “I wasn’t.  And if you really want to keep it that way, just stop trying to pick a fight.”  Gerard stopped fiddling with Jerk’s tie and placed a hand on his shoulder, applying a little more pressure than necessary.  The vampire looked directly into the now fearful eyes and let the thirst control his stare, “Because if I was threatening you…” Gerard lent in and whispered into the man’s ear, letting his unnaturally cold breath brush past the man’s ear and neck, “you would know.”

Gerard stepped back and smirked at Jerk’s now petrified face.  So maybe he had exception towards asshole's too.  The vampire turned, told Bob who he was and was easily let into the club.  Finally, the hunt was on.


	4. Hunt's On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt is on, and not just for Gerard.

GERARD snickered at the memory of the jerk’s petrified face outside.  He knew he should feel guilty, but that guy had really hit a nerve, and seeing him get put into his place, well, Gerard would be lying if he said he didn’t immensely enjoy putting him there.  Shaking his head at the thoughts he was sure he would be guilty of tomorrow morning when his blood lust had died down, Gerard swept his eyes over the inside of the club. 

LED and laser lights pulsed, flashed and swept across the room in a dizzying yet choreographed array of colour.  The smell of sweat and booze wafted around the room and the bass seemed to reach every corner of the space perfectly, yet the music remained perfectly balanced.  Gerard couldn’t help but appreciate the acoustics of the place.  It really was a well-presented club.  Far nicer than many Gerard had been to, but he experienced more than these simple observations.  The vampire could hear the people close to him breathing, their heart pumping and could smell the sweat on their skin.  It was slightly dizzying, the bombardment on his senses, but it could not be helped.  Now, he just needed to find his… prey. 

Gerard slinked through the body of people, sticking to the outskirts of the room as to avoid the dancing bodies in the middle of the complex on the glossy black dance floor.  Frank would certainly enjoy this place.

Gerard began to scan the bar for any potential targets, and just as he suspected, there were only a few.  Being relatively early for party-goers – and a Monday – there weren’t strictly many people tonight, however, this place seemed to rake in the numbers easily, and it seemed to be mainly tourists looking for a good time.  Hopefully, he was able to find a local, because last time he’d fed on a passing through backpacker, he had to feed on their friend that had stayed in the night just so she would forget he was there.  It was a chaotic night and it took him weeks to get over the intense cravings, what with his body not being used such a large increase in his blood intake. 

Instead of walking over to the bar, Gerard figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay in place leaning on the platinum metal railing and watch a little longer.  Surely there had to be _one_ guy around looking for a good time.  The raven-haired man didn’t really like getting handsy with strangers, not anymore, but it was the easiest and less conspicuous to bite a victim’s neck if any possible onlookers just assumed you were having a good time.

As his eyes swept the room, Gerard took notice of two men who seemed to be watching him.  Or rather, making it look like they _weren’t_ watching him… but they weren’t fooling the vampire. 

Some would take this as a good sign.  Heck, some of you may even be thinking _perfect victims!_ – Gerard knew one or two vampires who would be thinking the exact same thing, but that is for a later time – alas, this is not the case.  Gerard wasn’t taking any chances tonight.  If they were watching him because they were interested, they can approach him, and he would politely turn them down.  Two victims were _not_ something he wanted to experience again… morally speaking anyway.  His supernatural self would love to pursue bigger hunts. 

Gerard began to suspect that these men weren’t interested in him for a good time.  He couldn’t place what it was exactly, but there was something about the two strangers he didn’t like.  They rose the hairs on the back of his neck.  Best to steer clear of them for now.  Stay out of their way and out of sight when the time came for him to strike.  Speaking of which, Gerard glanced over at the bar to find a young man, probably no older than himself, getting comfortable on a stool and ordering a drink for himself. 

The man, well he looked more like a boy really - he barely seemed to pass for eighteen let alone twenty-one.  The _boy_ seemed deflated.  He was fidgeting with the glass in front of him and was glancing around with a hopeless expression, his shoulder’s hunched in a lost manner.  
                _Poor thing must have been stood-up,_ Gerard thought. _Hopefully, he isn’t too emotional._  
Gerard already hated leading people on and simply using them for a blood bag.  It was ten times worse when said blood bag is looking to be distracted from a break-up.  There wasn’t going to be much of a distraction… for the boy that is.

Gerard let out a heavy sigh and approached the boy.  His wavy, sandy blond hair was styled in a way that made him appear, in Gerard’s opinion, like someone who belonged on the coast.  The boy’s eyes were a piercingly light blue that seemed to be accented even more because of the blue button-down shirt he wore.  Gerard allowed his eyes to do a quick sweep-over of the boy, noticing the beige skinny jeans and white converse.  
                _He has good fashion taste_.

Gerard decided he would admit, that if he weren’t in a wonderfully stable relationship with one of the most gorgeous and understanding human beings… erm… persons out there, and if he were _human_ , he may have let himself get to know the boy more.  He really should stop calling him a boy, he was old enough to be here, and Gerard really wasn’t that much older himself.  Surely.  He certainly didn’t look it on any account.

Gerard took a final breath before composing his features from what he believed to be possibly very calculating and far too primal to one of concern.  It was an easy change.  Not because he was a good actor.  His feelings were _genuine_.  It’s just that… so was his instinctual hunger running dangerously high at the moment.

Gerard leant in over the boy’s shoulder as both a flirting tactic and so the younger _man_ could hear him over the thumping music. 

“Excuse me?” Gerard asked, then leant back quickly so he wasn’t in the stranger’s personal space for too long.  Regardless, Blue still jumped and whipped around with a slight look of fear and irritation in his eyes.  Fear and irritation that quickly faded away from his widening when he caught sight of Gerard. 

This raven-haired beauty had just leant over his shoulder to ask _him_ a question.  His eyes did a very obvious rake-over Gerard from head to toe and back up again.  He gulped slightly, causing Gerard to let a small smirk appear on his face.

“Yes?” The stranger asked, a little gobsmacked.

“Are you okay? I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little down. In a place like this, I feel like you should be a little happier than you appear to be.” Gerard worried he’d laid it on a little thick, he hadn’t done this sort of thing in a while.  He was trying to keep his eyes on the other’s icy blue ones instead of on his wonderfully appetising jugular vein.

“Oh, um, yeah?” Blue still couldn’t believe this man had come to speak to him.  He was gorgeous, and there was something about him that screamed danger.  It was marvellous.

“Uhuh,” Gerard answered. He laughed while rubbing the back of his neck and looked down at the ground.  He couldn’t believe how hard it was to _not_ stare at this guy’s neck.  
                _Get a grip! What is wrong with me? Why am I so nervous?_  
“What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” he replied, the smell of fear was dimming somewhat.  Gerard decided some of his nerves showing through weren’t so bad after all.

“Did you come here with anyone Jackson?”  Gerard asked, trying to get to the bottom of the situation to see if he was correct.

“No,” Jackson said, his posture drooping slightly, “You didn’t?”

Gerard laughed again and brushed a hand through his hair, “No... you’re not meeting anyone here?”

“No,” said Jackson bitterly, “I mean I was, but he stood me up,” he explained as he turned around to face the bar and fiddle with his empty glass.

“Oh well, fuck him.  May I?” Gerard gestured to the black stool next to Jackson to which he nodded, a slight smile appearing on his features.

Gerard returned the gesture with another small smirk, causing the other man’s heart to pound loudly.  Gerard moved his stool closer to the blue-clad man and gestured for the bar-tender.  After asking for what Jackson was drinking, he asked for two rum and whiskies and four shots of vodka to boot and even proceeded to charge all drinks to him after making a tab.  He was sure he'd come here again with… never mind that.

Jackson tried to convince Gerard that he could pay for his on drinks, but Gerard wouldn’t have it.

“This is me making you feel better for what the prick did to you, okay? Or didn’t do.” He added with a wink.

Jackson decided against arguing with the raven beauty.

After downing the two shots together, leaving their rums to drink slower, Jackson turned towards Gerard, trying to decipher what it was about the black-clad man what it was that made him seem to dangerous.

“So, what brings you here Gerard, especially on a Monday.  I’ve got an excuse.  What’s yours?”

Gerard smirked more obviously this time at Jackson and his sudden upfront demeanour.

“Oh, you know.  I had free time and I’m looking for a bit of fun,” Gerard said as he gave Jackson a side glance before taking a swig from his glass. “But only if you’re comfortable with that sort of thing, of course,” he continued, turning towards the presumably younger man.

“Well, lucky for you, I think that’s just what I need to take my mind off the other prick.” Jackson downed the last of his drink and ordered two more shots for the both of them, to which Gerard internally worried about, but smiled slyly anyway. 

He worried too much alcohol would muddle his senses, his judgement and in turn his control.  Something he would need a full grip on later.  He only ever drank out of necessity now, considering drinking was half the reason he found himself attacked in the alley way years ago.

“What’s wrong?” Asked Jackson, noticing Gerard’s furrowed brow.

“No, nothing. Just thinking… are you sure it’s okay? If you’ve just been, you know…” Gerard didn’t particularly want to say the words.

Jackson scoffed, “Per-lease, of course I am.” He leant closer, the smell of spirits smothering Gerard’s sense of smell momentarily.  “I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t, would I?” Jackson continued as he placed hand on Gerard’s thigh.

Gerard shoved his worries and chivalry out of his head, letting is predatory identity take more control.  If he listened to his moral compass too much, he would never feed tonight.

“I guess not,” Gerard purred, placing his hands Jackson’s hips, sliding off the stool he sat on and pulled the other man to the dance floor.  It would help set more of a mood, show he was the one who would control this situation and possibly lose the glances the two men on the other side of the room were giving Gerard.

He’d tried to brush it off as _their_ interest and _his_ own paranoia, but there was something about those two that really rubbed Gerard the wrong way.  Maybe he would have to feed off of Jackson at his house.  Gerard felt that it wasn’t a good idea to do so here.

“What’re you frowning for?” Jackson asked Gerard, placing a finger under the older man’s chin to steer his eyes to his to his own. “Someone as good looking as you should never be frowning,” the younger continued as he began to sway to the music.

Gerard smirked for show, but in reality, he wanted to grimace.  Only Frank should be complimenting him in such a manner.  In fact, it would be far superior, that was just plain cheesy!

As Jackson danced, obviously trying to seduce the raven-haired beauty, he was guided to the middle of the dance floor by two cold, white hands on his hips.  He noticed the unusually cold feeling of Gerard’s skin more than once this evening, and it took a lot of will-power not to flinch away and shiver.  Even when he had placed his hand on Gerard’s thigh, it was terribly cold.  No matter, things were bound to heat up later.

Unfortunately for Gerard, later couldn’t come too soon.  He was growing increasingly impatient and did not want to wait until they got to Jackson’s place to feed.  He was getting fidgety and his eyes kept wondering to the younger man’s neck while his hunger had him paying more and more attention to the sound of Jackson’s heavily beating heart.  Maybe dancing wasn’t such a good idea after all.

As if he’d read his mind Jackson slid his arms over Gerard’s shoulders and intertwined his fingers behind his neck before leaning up towards Gerard’s ear.

“I’ve had enough of this place if you have,” he said slyly over the music, “Two hours here seems like long enough.”

Feeling Jackson’s hot breath brush past his cold ear caused Gerard to tense, not in an uncomfortable way, but in anticipation.  It certainly didn’t help that Jackson’s neck was nearly directly in-line with his mouth.  Gerard’s pupils dilated and his mouth opened involuntarily as Jackson’s jugular vein pulsed enticingly in his neck.

Jackson leaned back, his smile innocent, his eyes devious and twinkling.  Gerard was still dazed with his supernatural hunger to realise that Jackson had pulled himself closer to him.  That was until he cocked his head to the side, awaiting an answer causing Gerard to lick his lips in anticipation.  No longer able to hold back the urges, he leaned down and kissed the younger man’s neck, craving a taste, even if only the skin. 

Jackson could have sworn there was a red gleam in Gerard’s otherwise hazel eyes, but his mouth grazed over his sweet spot causing a startled yet not disappointed moan from the blond and forgot about the strange site instantly. 

Gerard began nibbling on Jacksons neck, savouring the mouth-watering aroma of blood and the taste of excitement, lust and especially, though Gerard would never admit it, fear.  There was something about the scent and taste of fear on a human’s skin that was ever so endearing.  So endearing in fact that Gerard could feel his fangs beginning to elongate as he began nibbling on the blond’s neck.

With a sharp inhale of breath, Gerard pulled his lips – and effectively fangs – away from Jackson’s neck but left the tip of his nose trailing up the side of it, savouring the scent.  Tracing his nose up towards Jackson’s ear, he decided he should give an answer to his previously asked question.  If he didn’t, he was going to feed off of the boy right in the middle of the dance floor which would not only be threateningly messy, but far too risky.  Gerard could still feel the two strangers watching him, making him increasingly uneasy.  They hadn’t stopped pretending not to watch him all night and it was making him worried.  Who were they?  What did they want?  _Did they know?_

“Let’s spend two hours somewhere else then,” Gerard whispered in the same tone Jackson had used.

Gerard returned the grin Jackson gave him as he led him towards the exit, thankful he had thought to pay for the drinks at the bar earlier.  It was the lest he could do since he was about to drain the boy to exhaustion.  Gerard shook the moral turmoil out of his head, letting his supernatural instincts break free. 

As the two escaped the watching eyes of the strangers, the raven-haired vampire began to feel increasingly more at ease, and ten times more anticipatory as they entered a taxi back to Jackson’s apartment.  He was finally about to feed and as much as he despised it, he was looking forward to the taste of someone’s liquid life-force washing over his tongue and running down his throat.  However, the only way that would happen, was if Gerard played along to Jackson’s needy advances.

Meanwhile, inside the club, the two strangers exchanged a look.

“Brendon, was that… is he… you _know_ ,” the younger man stuttered, brushing his tick fringe out of his excited eyes.  He watched as his mentor smirked and sipped his drink.

“I think he is Ryan. I think he is.”

"Does that mean we get to -"

"Zip it, kid. Not here," the older man scolded, "but yes. The hunt is on."

***  
_Frank said it’s okay, Frank said it’s okay, Frank said it’s okay,_  Gerard chanted over and over within his head as he willed himself to respond to the gestures.  He didn’t let Jackson kiss him on the lips, but he allowed the boy to trail kisses down his neck as he calculated when and how he would feed.  The vampire decided straight away would be a better idea, that way, his victim was less likely to remember his previous emotions and therefore any memories of the night when morning came.

Jackson barely noticed the dark beauty’s still demeanour as he ran open-mouthed affection down his unnaturally cold and pale neck.  He noticed there was something different about the way Gerard smelled, not just the drastic temperature difference.  Seriously, his skin was like ice whereas he felt as if he was on fire.  His lust, anger at being stood up, unknown fear and booze making him particularly hot and flushed. 

They finally arrived at Jackson’s apartment and were inside in no time.  Jackson was almost shocked at Gerard’s haste as he shoved him through the door attacking his neck with open-mouthed kisses.  He’d be lying if he wasn’t a little scared.  Sure, he had slept with people before, but Gerard was obviously far more experienced than he was.   That and there was still that something else he just couldn’t put his finger on.

“Ge-Gerard,” Jackson gasped as the raven-haired man began nibbling at his ear, “Where do you want to do this?  Uh, couch or bed.”

“Whichever you prefer,” Gerard replied, his nose never leaving his neck as he relished the aroma of his scented skin and blood beneath it.

“Bed?” Jackson questioned.  He was surprised.  He’d assumed Gerard would’ve wanted the closer option, so maybe be wasn’t being completely emotionless about this? Little did he know.

“Where’s that?” Gerard finally, reluctantly, pulled away from the other man’s skin, awaiting an answer.

“This way.” Jackson turned to lead the way, but since there was only one door in direction a very short distance away, Gerard simply nodded and attacked Jackson’s neck again – no not bite, he wasn’t there yet – and led him towards the open door.

Before he knew it, Jackson was on his back with Gerard on top, straddling his hips.  He had begun to unbutton his shirt, excited and lustful anticipation causing his hands to shake, when he felt Gerard’s graze over the sweet spot on his neck, causing him to moan quietly.

The sound spurred Gerard on, using his teeth more, gradually working up to the attack as to not scare Jackson too much.

“Your mouth feels so good Gerard.  Oh, God.”

“God has nothing to do with this,” Gerard growled.  He grabbed Jackson’s wrist’s in each hand and pinned them above his head.  With one more tentative open-mouth kiss, Gerard exposed his fangs and grazed the skin, causing Jackson to shiver.

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Gerard, pain evident in his voice.  Before Jackson could question the sudden change of heart, Gerard bit into the blond’s neck, directly in line with his jugular vein.

Jackson opened his mouth to cry out, but nothing other than a small gasp escaped his mouth.  He felt useless and terrified… until he felt nothing.  Nothing but a wave of silent euphoria slowly washing over him.

Gerard moaned as the taste of blood flooded over his tongue.  He knew he had to keep his wits about him as to ensure he didn’t drain the poor guy under him, but wanted, no, _needed_ to savour this.  It had been so long.  He was thankful Mikey had convinced to feed off of him this morning. 

The vampire pulled back suddenly, open-mouthed and eyes closed, a small trail of blood running down the side of his chin as he gasped, subconsciously placing a hand over the wound to stop it from running too profusely.  He’d needed this so badly.  It had been so long and now he was finally being satisfied, even if the blood _was_ heavily tainted with the taste of alcohol.

Looking back at Jackson with his now red irises, blown pupils and the whites black, he swiped his tongue over his lips.  Not only did he taste remnants of blood, but he felt his fangs sharp and ready for use.  Two fangs inhabited his upper row of teeth, one set longer and the thicker than the other, but both just as sharp as the other. 

Jackson was in a daze, his eyes closed but breathing ragged.   Gerard swept his eyes over Jackson’s features, feeling a pang of guilt for attacking something so seemingly innocent, but that was quickly abandoned as he looked at his hand now slightly covered in blood.  In no time, Gerard leaned back down, still straddling Jackson’s hips, and bit into the same wound once more.  It has taken practice, but he was almost able to bite into the same wound without puncturing more skin almost flawlessly now.  Almost.

Again, Gerard let the dark, red liquid rush his mouth.  Drinking deeply, he could sense that it almost time to stop and although his body screamed for him to continue, to feed for the kill, his mind begged him to stop.   
_Find someone else if you have to, but this one’s almost drained. Time to stop._

Gerard withdrew his fangs from the younger man’s neck and swiped his tongue over the open wound to clean it. Once, twice, three times for good measure.  He watched as his venom sealed the wound, ceasing the bleeding and lowering the temptation of going back for thirds.

In one fluid motion, Gerard removed himself from the unconscious blond underneath him and off the bed.  He inspected the black quilt cover and was proud to say there was barely any blood on it, and since the cover was black, it was barely noticeable.  It was in a better condition than he was after all.  His palm and fingers were covered in blood and he could feel slight trails on his chin and on one side of his neck.

“Where’s the bathroom,” Gerard muttered, leaving the bedroom.  It was only round the corner thankfully.  He wanted to leave as soon as possible. 

After Gerard watched the last of Jackson’s blood run down the drain, he looked into the mirror only to flinch away immediately.  His eyes, in his opinion, were monstrous, his fangs still hadn’t retracted completely while the blood around his mouth made him want more.  Hastily, Gerard splashed water on his face, violently scrubbing any remnants of his supernatural diet out of site, and wistfully, out of mind.

\---

The taxi ride back was long and silent, Gerard only muttering his address and speaking as little as possible when spoken to.  He couldn’t have gotten home any sooner.  As he left the cab quickly, giving the driver cash and telling him to keep the change. 

He trudged to the front door, swearing at the keys when they got stuck in the door, preventing him from getting them out.  Last time he did this, he’d wrenched them out using his supernatural strength and had broken the lock on the door.  Gerard glanced at the time on his phone and swore once more as he leant forward and thudded his head against the door.  Gerard stayed like that for a while.  His head on the door, arms limply hung down, his shoulders hunched and eyes closed.

The self-hate was beginning to attack him in relentless waves.  He’d growled at the cab driver, threatened the dick at the club – even if he had sort of deserved it – and fed off an innocent who’d obviously been taken with him.  What was worse was that he wanted to turn right back around, call a taxi and do it all again.  Maybe even feed off of the taxi driver to boot, because, in reality, he loved the hunt.

The hunt was never long enough for his bloodlust apparently, it always wanted more, and he never wanted to give it.  Yes, it was cliché.  Say what you will, _a vampire who hates what he has become_ , Gerard always found it slightly amusing in some sick way, that he had become a typical teen horror romance, but fuck.  He _hated_ being a vampire.


End file.
